Roses Are Red
by T-Bear2
Summary: ON HOLD AU: Treize Kushrenada wants to rule the world, King Quatre stands in his way. Slave Heero and inn-keeper Duo are added to the mix. Please give it a chance, I'm not too good with summarys.
1. Chapter one Duo

Disclaimer: I don't own it! If I did, Relena would most likely have died somewhere in the story.  
  
Warnings: Violence, NCS, Abuse, may-be yoai (Haven't decided yet, but if it is it will be 2x1 and 3x4) Relena -bashing (kinda, she's a bitch), Language  
  
Roses are Red  
  
Chapter one  
  
"You liar! He's not dead! He's sleeping! That's all!" A young boy yelled. The older boy slapped his face. On the ground, the tiny shoulders shook as sobs were heard.  
  
"He's dead boy! Get over it!" Was hissed. "Now help me get rid of the body, no need creating even more of a risk." The boy nodded and pulled the feet of his dead best friend up as he and the older boy carried the body to the trash yard.  
  
"When can we get more food?"  
  
"Now would be a good time. Let's hurry, Duo." Duo ran with the boy and found an unattended cart. He got an armful of apples before the tailor got back and he quickly ran, ducking and weaving through the streets that he knew so well.  
  
"There's another one! Get that brat!" A shout rang through the air and someone gripped his long hair. The act caused him to drop the apples out of pain and the young boy was turned to face a young man, a worker by the looks of it.  
  
"Got him! How much are they worth?" He asked.  
  
"Maxwell Church is offering six dollars per head! I don't know why they're willing to bay that much, the church is already poor enough as it is."  
  
"Six dollars for this rat? That should give me an extra day or two, maybe even a gift for my little girl." The man wrapped Duo's hair in his fist before walking to a large building with a cross on top. The man walked to the great wooden door and after he knocked, an old man came to them.  
  
"Father Maxwell?" The priest nodded. "I have this little street rat, I was told you was paying six dollars for them." The man nodded again.  
  
"Sister Helen? Can you fix this young man up? And sir, I believe I have just the amount." The man said as a young woman arrived. She gave him a black robe, that she ended up forcing him into, and a damp cloth to wipe his face off. When she came back, she had a pair of scissors and Duo immediately jumped away.  
  
"Young man, you must cut that hair."  
  
"I'm Duo, not young man and I ain't cutting my hair!"  
  
"It's too long."  
  
"No it's not!"  
  
"Duo!"  
  
"No! It's just fine!" The door opened and Father Maxwell came in.  
  
"What's the problem?" He asked.  
  
"She's trying to chop my hair off!" Duo grumbled.  
  
"It's too long."  
  
"I like it long."  
  
"Duo! I won't cut it much, only a bit."  
  
"Duo, it that your name?" Father Maxwell asked. Duo nodded slowly. "I'm Father Maxwell and this is Sister Helen. Now, why don't you want your hair cut?"   
  
"I like it long." Duo grumbled angrily.  
  
"Sister, why don't you find another way to keep the hair out of his face." Father Maxwell suggested. The lady nodded and took the hair, with only a little fight, and braided the long hair.  
  
Two years after Duo joined Maxwell Church, he only stole about once a month or so, the Father and Sister weren't very pleased, and he learned to read and write. He snatched a pear from a vender and was about to take a bite when it was taken from his hand. He turned to glare at the boy next to him. The Chinese boy looked closely at him.  
  
"Hey! Give that back! It's mine!" Duo yelled.  
  
"You stole it, it's not yours. Your clothes clearly say that you don't have to."  
  
"Leave me alone! Why do you care?" Duo hissed.  
  
"I WORK for my food, and you're old enough to work, so get a job." The boy said. "It's unjust (AN: Guess who it is? I'll give you two guesses and the first one doesn't count.) that you steal."  
  
"I don't care! Why work when I can get out of it?" The braided boy studied the other in front of him. "Who are you anyways?"   
  
"Chang Wufei."  
  
"Duo, what kind of name is Chang?"  
  
"It's my sire name, you would order it Wufei Chang." The other boy said, irritated.  
  
"Oh, okay Wu-man! Why do you work?"  
  
"I don't have much money and my parents were killed and my sister died from the sickness that came here a couple years ago." Wufei said, "But I don't steal things."  
  
"So? That doesn't apply to me." Duo stated haughtily.   
  
"It should. If you want to grow up honorably, you would work for a job or a goal."  
  
"What's your goal?"  
  
"I want to my own business, a small hotel would be nice." He said.  
  
"Great! Then I'll work for you!" Duo grinned. The Chinese boy scowled.  
  
"I don't have one yet."  
  
"Well, I got the perfect place for you. Follow me!" He said, pulling Wufei behind him. "No one really ever does anything with it, but it has about ten rooms up top and nine on the bottom with a kitchen, entry room, and two or three studies." Duo said. He brought the boy to a building that hardly stood. "It needs a lot of work and the furniture, but I can help you there."   
  
"As long as you don't steal anything." Duo shook his head.  
  
"The man at the lumber house is always giving me things." Duo said. "He loves big projects and he will fix this place up for cheap and I have a lot of figurines that he made for me because I'm from Maxwell orphanage." Was quickly explained.  
  
"That would help, my father used to own a hotel and taught me because he thought I would take over." Wufei said. "And I figure that I could make my own timetable."  
  
"Could I?" Duo asked.  
  
"No, I make your times."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because, you work for me!"  
  
"Oh, that's no fun."  
  
"Why's your hair so long? It makes you look like an onna."  
  
"That's fine, I like it like this."  
  
Two years later, the twelve year olds both worked at the new hotel, though Duo's obligations to the church kept him busy. There was always at least one person staying in the hotel and both worked on honing certain skills needed.  
  
"Fei? Why are we working again?" Duo asked after a hard day.  
  
"This way we have money of our own and we can have more money when we're ol- what's that smell? Smells like-"  
  
"Fire! Everyone form a line!" Someone yelled, the two boys ran ahead to where the thick cloud of black smoke darkened the sky. When they saw the building that was on fire, Duo screamed and ran to the burning building. Wufei grabbed him before he could run in the church.  
  
"Let go of me, Wufei! Father! Sister Helen! Where are you? Let go of me!" Duo screeched.  
  
"People are going in right now, Duo. You can't go in!" He yelled, the boy kept thrashing and screaming until the fire was out and then he broke free and charged into the church. As he bet the door, he saw some men rush out before the entire building collapsed. The braided boy fell to his knees as he sobbed, not even shaking off the firm hand of his best friend.  
  
After that, both boys continued the business, Duo always wearing black with a priest collar and a cross about his neck. The lumber man, Howard, made figurines and some chairs and table for their hotel. Where before they only had five mattresses, they now had one in every room and had frames for the beds, at five dollars a frame and three for a chair, they learned to save their money and only bought things for the rooms when they had plenty of money to spare. The hotel was called the Chang-Maxwell House, thought of by two twelve year olds and it was the only name they could agree on.  
  
Six years after the Maxwell Church Massacre, the Chang-Maxwell House was the only hotel in town. With five other towns in the Winner kingdom, theirs was the smallest, but closest to the actual palace as it was three miles from town and people stayed there before looking at the palace. Some important people even stayed before going to the palace. Healthy tips were given, raising their profits and improving their hotel.  
  
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Trust me on this when I say that it gets longer, though the next one is a quickie. I'm not that good at Duo's POV most of the time. The next will be Quatre and I'm even worse with him. Please bear with me. ~C-Bear 


	2. Chapter two Quatre

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing! Do I LOOK Japanese! Don't answer that, I don't. And even if you wanted to sue me, I own nothing, or should I say, close to nothing in my name.  
  
Roses Are Red  
  
Chapter two: Quatre  
  
The cheerful, angelic boy looked just like a prince should. Innocence shinned in blue depths and hair of white gold framed a face that held the blessings of becoming childishly handsome. With twenty-nine sisters and one King for a father, Quatre was lacking in friends. He knew how he should act, but the King was always busy and all he had for guidance were his sisters and his nurse-maid.  
  
When the boy was born, the last child of his father's true wife, his father had gotten rid of his concubines, only keeping them around so they may watch over their daughters. Quatre's mother had died during childbirth and he was heir to the throne and there would not be another boy.  
  
When he reached eleven, he found his first best friend in the form of a young boy named Trowa Barton. He was in the mercenary group that his father had hired to guard the palace wall with the Maganacs.   
  
The boy was a year older and had light brown hair covering one of his emerald eyes. As they were the only boys in their age group in the whole palace, they were often seen together when Quatre wasn't in classes and Trowa wasn't being trained to fight.  
  
At twelve, Trowa's hands held Quatre Winner's life in them. He was the personal body guard of his best friend. It was thought that people would think the young prince to be open to attack, while really, he walked, talked, and joked with a professional guard. Trowa didn't talk much and his face and eyes, if both showed, could give anyone the impression that he was only humoring the young prince. Quatre knew different, Trowa would talk when heed needed to and didn't waist words.  
  
Quatre longed to leave the palace walls, but was held against his wishes for his safety. He was taught to fight and to get his way. If the person he was talking to looked him in the eye, they would agree to anything if Quatre let them see pleading and innocence in his ice eyes. He used anything and everything to an advantage, but he wasn't mean or callus. He wasn't selfish by a long shot. He could manipulate, but he looked at everyone else's above his own, mainly his subject's gain.  
  
He was made King at seventeen when his father was killed only days before Quatre's eighteenth birthday. A choice was being made about power.   
  
Treize Khushrenada wanted the Winner Kingdom. The organization OZ had taken over much of the world and the Winner Kingdom, though small, was powerful and influential. Quatre's father had disagreed and Quatre felt that that was the right choice to make. After looking through everything, it was decided that they would stay out of the struggle for power unless the OZ organization made hostile moves towards them. Quatre had his mind set and the others agreed on him course of action, but not necessarily the course that the young king would take.   
  
Quatre agreed, six months after his father died, to speak with Treize. He hoped that the could sway their view from his kingdom. Messengers had already been sent to all of the towns, telling them to be calm, but have weapons ready, just in case. With the Maganacs and the mercenaries on double duty, the palace became twice as guarded and protected.  
  
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Yes, I know it's short! I'm not good with Quatre! Leave me alone, unless it's good, I don't really mind any type of review, I don't like flames, but it wouldn't bother me. I just don't want to hear that it's short! This had, or it would make it easier to understand, not necessary, but it is the palace's history. Don't hurt me! Most chappies will be longer! I think that this will be the shortest chappie!  
  
In other news; thank you to rikasakuraduo-heerosyliaspike, sorry if it's a bit misspelled, man spell-checks great! 'nywayz, c-ya! ~C-Bear 


	3. Chapter three Heero

Disclaimer: This is my story and my plot, but if I owned GW, would I be writing this? NO! Didn't think so.  
  
Roses are Red  
  
Chapter three: Heero  
  
A young boy of seven years cocked the hand holding the knife before letting it go, embedding itself deeply into the chest of his target. The man fell and the young Japanese boy walked away to his guardian. They were posing as father and son and would be leaving to collect their payment. After arriving back at their room, the youth walked to his room to shine al of his knife. They were hand made, but held no distinctions that could trace back to him or Odin. The boy's bought ones were not throwing knives, and lay one on his arm, hip, and leg. He also had a back up knife in his bag.  
  
Even at age eleven, the boy had a dictionary of ways to kill or give serious harm. The last five years of his life, he had been taught this by Odin Lowe, the man that killed his father and mother. The boy continued to speak Japanese, though Odin only spoke English. He could only read in English, if the boy had a name, he couldn't recall it. After shining his weapons, he put everything away and brought his single bag of possessions to Odin's room and waited. Odin stood and the Japanese boy looked up at him.  
  
"Come on kid, after we get paid, I'm going to leave you there." A small head shot up in surprise. "You didn't think you could stay with me did you? I taught you enough to survive, and I only have one piece of advice," the blond looked at the boy's blue eyes before continuing, "follow your emotions." The boy nodded before continuing after his guardian's retreating back. On the road to the town with their payment, there wasn't very much talk.   
  
"Do you know when your next mission is?" The boy asked.  
  
"Yes, it's in this town."  
  
"You have to watch out, you're getting old."  
  
"I don't need to listen to anything a YOUNG boy like you says." There wasn't any other conversation until they entered the building marked to collect the money. Before either could say or do anything, a long knife found it's way into Odin's stomach. Another nicked the boy's neck as a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders.  
  
The boy brought his arm underneath the man holding him's arm and in front of his neck, between the knife and his neck. His other arm elbowed the man's groin as his foot slammed down onto the man's foot. The man jumped back quickly, cutting through the boy's arm instead of his neck. Another man sprung at the boy and one of the boy's nice knives weren't so nice anymore as blood coated it. A hand grabbed his hand with the blade and by pressing on his hand, easily making him release the knife. He was spun to face an old man that was much stronger than he looked.  
  
"What's your name, boy?" He asked. The Japanese youth kept silent. "I think you will work just fine, just fine indeed." (AN: If anything happens to offend someone, it was not intentional. The terms used are not something I use, but instead are to separate the different people. That is all, it is not to offend anyone. Again, I apologize in advance if anyone is offended.) The boy just looked up at him. "Take the body out." The old man said as he pulled the boy. "You belong to me now, you are number 23 and will be called Jap. Names are irrelevant and right now, you are going to your room. Your training will start tomorrow."  
  
The boy's nose wrinkled in disgust at the name. He tried to jerk free, but was backhanded in the face and his arm was twisted viciously. A door opened to show the room that they arrived at and it had nothing in it. "This is where you will stay." Was all the warning he got before being pushed in. Darkness was the only thing able to be seen. A few stray rays of light shinned through the top from a thin slit about four feet higher than he was. The hard wooden floor was his bed and he woke up sore.  
  
The door opened and a man walked in, ridding the boy of his clothes and weapons before putting a plain green tank shirt with the sleeves ripped off and tight black trousers that had most of the legs ripped off. He picked irritably at it until his arm was grabbed and he was pulled out. At the door, ugly yellow shoes were forced on his feet and he was taken to a room with chairs and many other children in the same outfit that he was in.  
  
He noticed that no one in the class even looked to him, not even the boy he was placed next to. The instructor just continued his lecture and the students listened, nothing in front of them or a bag beside them. Number 23 started to listen, but found he couldn't understand anything being said.  
  
"French." The man that brought him said before leaving. He began to listen to the man up front and watched his actions. Soon, he began to understand bits and pieces of what was being said. After that, the instructor left and another entered. This time, when he got to the front, he motioned to two boys in front and one grabbed pallets and paper while the other got writing sticks. When everyone had a pallet, paper, and stick, the instructor went to the board up front and began writing long equations, explaining how to solve it as he did, number 23 saw that no one wrote this down, so he didn't either. When the man wrote eight equations, the others began writing, most without a sound. 23 and a couple other got hit in the back for writing too loudly.  
  
By the time this instructor left, 23 had been hit twenty times for missing one problem and not finishing three. This time everyone was taken outside and made to run five miles and the last five people got beaten, 23 being saved by being the sixth to last when he finished. They were then made to do numerous other exercises and 23 soon found out that this was their warm up and this time when the trainer left, the boys, and a rare girl, stretched before the next session began. 23 found that the standard were made on the best, past or present, 23 was beaten multiple times, but it was nothing compared to Mick, 9, who collapsed on the obstacle course. When he landed, a sickening crack filled the air and 23 watched stunned. Most of the dead people he had seen were adults. He got another beating for that.  
  
It took him a few days to get the most important rule; the only thing that mattered was himself. When they were aiming knives and practicing killing, 23 was the best. He became accustomed to learning quickly and Dr. J expected languages to be learned in a month, six weeks for writing. If it took longer, in many cases it did, then the person was whipped five times a day. Mathematics were to be quick and accurate. They had to be in top physical shape and knowledge of the human body had to be memorized. All types of way to fix injuries were learned. For no reason was anyone to miss a day, not for illness or broken bone. If an instructor wished to speak with 23, his number woul be used, the other subject were to call each other by their name that J gave them. It was mostly just an ethnic slur. Three years after he got there, the new recruits stopped, only thirty people were there and at least one person died every three months. This rate was risen to once a month for a year until Dr. J brought all of the trainees to the assembly room.  
  
"Today, there will be a fight to the finish! All of you will be given a knife and let loose in separate rooms. Tem minutes after you start, a gas will be let loose into the rooms quickly, killing those still in them. It will continue to last for a week, at the end of the week, there should only be one person left alive. If there are more, all survivors will be placed in a large room where one person will live, I will kill all survivors if you refuse to fight and the death WILL be painful. Take them away." Dr. J said and the soldiers, for that's what they were, were led to their quarters.  
  
Five minutes later, a knife was slid in and a shout saying, "Begin." was heard. 23 walked through the door and quickly stretched across the ceiling, ten feet up. It was something Odin had taught him and he planned to survive. He crawled silently across the ceiling, when he saw someone, he moved lower and used strong arms to hold him up as his legs swung down, knife logged between them and entering the other's skull. He would drop, collect his knife and their knife, or knives before going back up. If he had more than three knives, he would throw it to the people and on a few occasions, fought hand to hand.   
  
During the night, he would rest tired muscles in a box or somewhere well hidden and go into a half sleep. If someone or something came near, he would wake and stay on alert until they were gone. Early in the morning he would catch those that didn't rest and kill them in their sleep. 23 killed his last opponent on the last day, not an hour before the sleeping gases flooded the building. At eleven years old, he was the winner.  
  
Through the next year, everything was one-on-one and everything was harder. For every mistake, the punishment was worse. The name Jap was never used, nor was 23. Dr. J gave him the name Heero Yuy as he had earned a name.  
  
"Heero, come over here." The stotic twelve year old walked to the aging doctor and stood before a tall man with a rich air around him. Light brown hair was neatly pulled back. The man next to him was only slightly shorter with long white hair that didn't take away from his youthful appearance. "This is Treize Khushrenada and Zechs Marquise." The man said.  
  
"This is your perfect soldier? A small boy? He looks ten." The brunette stated skeptically.  
  
"Don't take him from face value. He knows over thirty languages and is an expert in combat. Ask him almost any question and he will most probably know it. He can break through most things and can pick almost any lock." Dr. J boasted.  
  
"This skinny little kid? He will be handsome when he grows, but that's all I expect him to be." Treize drawled. "But don't worry doctor, he's not your problem anymore." Heero looked sharply behind the doctor without moving his head and saw the man cut his head off. When the man aimed for Heero, he dodged up close to the man and broke his arm before stabbing him with his own sword. He crouched slightly, taking in everything around him in a glance. "Take him, alive." Treize said and people began moving in on the young boy.  
  
Ten people that wielded swords with ease approached the boy armed only with himself and a sword, not his choice of weapon. He took three out before one of them crashed the handle to the boy's head.  
  
When Heero awoke, the blond was sitting across from him. "You have two options, a soldier or a slave."  
  
"For what?" Heero's emotionless voice asked.  
  
"Treize. It is the winning side, soon the entire world will be ruled under Treize." The man said proudly.  
  
"No."  
  
"No what?" Zechs asked.  
  
"No, I will not be your soldier."  
  
"Then a slave it is." He said before exiting. Heero was kept there for two weeks and a day. his figure, which was tied to the wall at the elbows and knees, was emaciated from lack of food and water. Something was pressed to his dried lips and warm water was let into his mouth.  
  
"Heero was it?" A male's voice asked. Prussian eyes glared at the young soldier. "Treize would like to see you." He said after untying the boy's knees and pulling him up. He was led to a room with abut a hundred soldiers and Treize was up in the front.  
  
"I will give you one more chance to become my soldier." He said. Heero said nothing. "Take him away and hydrate him. Minimal food to prevent escape." The man's silk voice was hard and rough hands pulled him away.  
  
The next four years, Heero kept learning and learned all of Treize's plans, and the flaws. When soldiers in the higher ranks wanted to relieve their stress, they would go to Heero. Sometimes a light beating would follow while other times he would have struggles mending himself.  
  
If they were away from civilization for long periods of time, the men would relieve their sexual tensions on his body. he was short and slight with a slightly feminine build. His face was masculine, so most times he would be taken from behind.  
  
Zech's younger sister, Relena, had an obsession with the Japanese youth and shortly after he was able, the girl got permission from her brother to have sex with him. Relena was a year older then Heero and was very pretty, but Heero disliked her. She forced him to orgasm and Heero hated it when his body betrayed him. It was due to Relena that at fourteen, Heero had a daughter. A daughter that was killed shortly after birth.  
  
While Zechs rarely beat him, when he did, it was bad and it was especially bad when Relena was pregnant. Most nights that nine months Heero spent unconscious in a bloody heap.  
  
When Treize revealed that they were going to the Winner kingdom, Heero thought nothing of it until he heard some people saying that Treize killed the king in hopes of the prince surrendering. Heero didn't doubt that if this prince didn't surrender to Treize's sugar-coated tongue, then another battle would be fought. It was only a matter of time until Treize was in control of yet another nation.  
  
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Didn't I tell you this was going to be longer? Well? Did I? I did it! So ha! Sorry for all of those Heero fans out there, but I like seeing him tortured mentally or physically, don't matter to me. I haven't decided whether it will be yaoi or not, if it is, the pairings will be 2x1 and maybe a bit of 3x4, personally, 2x1 is my favorite but it's so hard to find these days!   
  
Thank you to magic-shield for the review. I don't review until i have at least one review per chappie, and i have the others typed up in the limited time that i have. C-Ya! ~C-Bear 


	4. Chapter four The Arrival

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Gundam Wing.   
  
Roses Are Red  
  
Chapter four: The Arrival  
  
"Duo! We have a booking for an entire week! A man named Treize has bought al of the rooms and even gave extra money so we can finish putting the frames in!" Wufei's excited shout came from downstairs. Duo had been painting a table upstairs, being very careful about staying on the painter's mat Howard had given him for a dollar. After finding a safe place for the table, he ran down the stairs.  
  
"What!? Every room for a whole week?" Duo gasped.  
  
"Yeh, some rooms will even have a couple people, three I think." His friend said.  
  
"Wow! When are they coming?"  
  
"In three days. Do you think Howard can have the frames?"  
  
"I'll finish up that table, then go and order them." An Duo was up the stairs and finishing the painting as quickly as he could get it done without screwing anything up.  
  
Only a few our before their rich guests arrived, the frames came and the pair had only just gotten the last bed done when a rich voice called from below. Duo bounded down the stairs to see five men, a young lady, and a young boy or girl of only about fourteen or sixteen. The young figure kept their head down and the face was hidden by a mop of brown hair.  
  
"Welcome to the Chang-Maxwell House, you must be mister Kushrenada." Duo bowed happily.  
  
"Yes, the rest of my group is a short ways down, by the shops." The brunette said. "I am Treize Kushrenada and this is Zechs Marquise and his younger sister, Relena" He motioned to a tall blond and the young woman hanging on the smallest of the group.  
  
"I am Duo Maxwell and my boss, Mr. Chang is finishing up on your rooms. Now, who will be bunking up and who won't be?" He asked pleasantly.  
  
"All of us will have single rooms, just show us where the doubles are and I'll tell the men using them. And my room will be next to his with Zechs on the other side. Relena's room shall be across the hall from his room." He gestured to the small figure in Relena's grasp.  
  
"Are they engaged?" Duo asked, he didn't think that a woman should hang on a man like that unless they are married, engaged, or in a close relationship. Zech's face twisted awfully at the very suggestion of the pair being engaged.  
  
"No, he was given to us when his old caretaker, ah, passed on. Please excuse his behavior, he's ill in the head and is open to fits." He gestured to the long sleeves that Duo realized were connected by metal at the elbow, it was hidden by the loose shirt.  
  
"Follow me to the rooms." Duo decided that he didn't wish to speak with someone that would chain a child up. Wufei came down just as they went down the hall. After showing them to their rooms, Duo went to find Wufei.  
  
"Duo, who was the peasant with them? Did he sneak in?" Wufei asked.  
  
"What peas-oh! They said he was ill in the head."  
  
"Ill in the head? How was the group, not much there." Wufei said.  
  
"The others are in town." Duo explained. A bang from the door announced the arrival of someone. He ran out to the front hall to see a man whose face was horribly disfigured.  
  
"Where's Treize?" he growled.  
  
"Wait a short moment and I will ask him if he wishes to see you. What's your name?"  
  
"Where is his room? Treize told me this was where we were staying and I need to find someone," he growled.  
  
"Wait a moment." Duo snapped before walking to Treize's room. "Mr. Kushrenada? There is a man looking for you!" He yelled after a quick rap on the door. Treize walked out and followed the young adult to the front hall.  
  
"Dekim? What do you want?" Treize asked.  
  
"I'm looking for someone." He growled.  
  
HEERO'S POV  
  
Heero sat on his bed and looked at the window. He only got to look up when he was alone, for Treize wouldn't want anyone to see the abuse he had gone through. The sixteen year old jumped when his door slammed open. Dekim stood there, the worst of his captors. Dekim loved seeing Heero in pain and he had been schooled against letting his pain show. With his body in constant pain, it made getting a reaction harder to get.  
  
A scarred hand grabbed his neck while another began attacking his chest, face, and arms. A hard punch to the side of his face almost broke his cheek bone and jaw. Heero's nose was broken and right before he passed out, he saw the silver lash of a knife as his shirt was torn off. Before he could be lost to the world of unconsciousness, though, Dekim waved smelling salts under his nose before he started cutting.  
  
From his past, Heero learned, or rather it was beaten into him, that he was to be quiet at all times unless he had to talk. When Dekim was done, he left without a word and Heero's tense body relaxed. After a few moments, he began to fix himself up by touch only as the sun was setting. The teenager couldn't reach his back, chest, or arms as his elbows were bound. The next morning when Treize came to give him a small bit of soggy bread and a trickle of water, the man also fixed him up. The man left his slave without a word spoken. Heero just sat on the bed and looked out the window.  
  
AN: The chappies are going to be somewhat shorter for a while, maybe.   
  
Come on! please, just one review, I need motivation, a review that tells that no one likes it would even work, that way I can just take it off and work on it in my own time.   
  
Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, and Happy Kwanzaa, if you celebrate something that I missed, sorry, but Happy whatever that is too. 


	5. Chapter five The Meeting

Roses Are Red  
  
Chapter five  
  
"Quatre, are you sure you want to allow Treize into the palace?" Trowa asked again, anxiety laced his every word.   
  
"Yes, I have already made up my mind, but I want to hear what he has to say and why before possibly starting a war." The blonde said. "I have been told that he is a gentleman and I don't want to be the one that started a war." Trowa didn't let any emotion show on his face, though Quatre knew he was still ill at ease. Most people knew about King Quatre's views on war. The new king was like his father in the respect that he didn't like to fight, but he did know how. Trowa was the only one that knew about the brilliant strategies floating around in Quatre's head.  
  
"It will only be Treize and his right hand, Zechs, right milord?" Trowa asked. Quatre flinched slightly knowing that Trowa didn't agree with him and demonstrated it by using his title.  
  
"Trowa, please understand." Was what Quatre wanted to say before explaining it to him, but he didn't. The young king knew that he would remain on opposite sides with his best friend on this decision. While he didn't like for this to happen, he knew that he wouldn't be able to change Trowa's thought on this.  
  
"Your majesty! Lord Kushrenada is waiting in the social room!" A young servant called from the door. The young adults rose and walked to the social room in complete silence. When Quatre entered the room, a mask of innocence and trust shined on his face.  
  
"Lord Kushrenada! I must apologize for making you wait!" Quatre exclaimed jovially. Not even his eye could give him away as only those close to him could read anything in them.  
  
"No need! I must say that I have enjoyed your town's hospitality. I am sure you know of Mr. Marques," he nodded to the tall blonde next to him, "allow me to introduce myself, Lord Treize Kushrenada." The man gave an elegant bow.  
  
"I am Quatre Winner, pleasure to make your acquaintance." A small bow of the head and he showed them to the large chairs. He sat in one and Trowa stood next to it and slightly behind. The two guests were seated across from him. Most people that were entertained in the room they were in never gave the rich environment a second glance, so used to the expensive shine the room had in their own homes. Quatre felt a bit smug as he cause Zechs' eyes look quickly around the room. "Misty! Could you get my guests something to drink?" Quatre asked. A young girl nodded and mumbled a small, "yes sir," before leaving.  
  
"Thank you King." Treize said politely. "Now I am sure you know the reason I am hear." The brunette said, but the blonde facing him decided to play naive.  
  
"I'm sorry, but you only asked to meet with you. Would you tell me your reasons for coming here?"  
  
"The Winner Kingdom is at the center of many large kingdoms and grounds, as I'm sure you know." Treize began. "I would like to know if you would like to consider becoming a part of my ever-growing lands."  
  
"Why would I do that? What's in it for me?" Quatre asked patiently, but with the sound of arrogance.  
  
"This kingdom could be great. You would be even richer then you are now. You will be on the winning side and should a war ever reach your gates, many allies would come to help with your cause. I believe that you should let go of your kingdom and still remain in charge before I must take it by force." The threat was said in such a way that Treize could have been discussing food.  
  
"I think that it would be best if I decline your offer." Quatre said politely. "I would offer you to stay for a luncheon."   
  
"I shall accept your invitation." Treize said pleasantly. They rose and gathered in the dining hall where there were three tables, two filled with adults and one with the children under the age of ten years.   
  
"Come with me." Quatre walked through the room into another room with only one table, half the size of the tables in the other room. He rang that bell and a servant entered. "A small luncheon if you may." The servant left only to have the door burst open by a longhaired man. "What is the meaning of this!" Quatre hissed, genuinely mad about the intrusion by this stranger.  
  
"Sire! Come quick!" The man panted. "There is a situation in town!"   
  
"Trowa, go with him, bring two of your men with you."  
  
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AN: Sorry about the shortness. I won't be getting much out on this or very many of my other stories because mixed with school, tournaments, having an annoying sickness that scrambles my brains and makes me tired and sore ALL of the time (while hoping that it doesn't turn into something potentially fatal), and my right arm out of order and not being able to write when I do have time at the moment my brain is fried. and since I don't have a beta, I have to do all of the editing, very badly might I add, myself. and still wondering about the yaoi, any of it would be just mentions if there is any.  
  
Thanks to:  
  
gundam06serenity  
  
dark 


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